


Patch-Up

by SOFreddie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Flirting, Partial Nudity, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 09:01:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16426388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOFreddie/pseuds/SOFreddie
Summary: Dean and Sam return from a hunt and wake the Reader to help with patching them up.





	Patch-Up

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at titles!!! Another one based off a prompt that I can’t find (Being woken up in the middle of the night to patch up the boys after a hunt). I wrote a bunch of these forever ago and wasn’t sure if they were good enough to post.

Sam and Dean stumbled into the bunker from the garage. Having just completed a hunt a few hours away, they were worse for wear. The case was supposed to be simple, all Intel pointing to a lone werewolf. Arriving at the cabin in the woods, the brothers were ready to take it down. However, they were caught off guard and surprised to find a pack of werewolves, five in total. After a long a brutal battle, the Winchester’s defeated the pack. However, both brothers were sporting several wounds head-to-toe, including gashes, bruised and battered ribs, and head wounds amongst other things. After arriving back at the bunker, Sam and Dean quickly realized they were both too injured to properly tend to each other's wounds.

Dean let out a heavy sigh. “We need Y/N to patch us up”, he proclaimed reluctantly.

“Dude, you know how grumpy she gets when we wake her up.” Sam cautioned.

“What choice do we have, Sam?” Dean nearly shouted as he slowly made his way to Y/N’s room, Sam following close behind with the first-aid kit in hand. Dean knocked softly on Y/N’s door and waited for a response. “Y/N…Sweetheart?” he spoke softly as he gently opened her door. The room was softly lit by the nightlight she always kept on, having a fear of the dark. Sam and Dean tiptoed quietly into the room. Dean leaned over Y/N’s sleeping form, a slight smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. He reached down to gently shake her shoulder. “Y/N…honey…” She stirred beneath his touch, moaning in irritation. “Hey, Sweetheart. We need your help. Can you wake up?” Dean spoke with a soft, sing-song voice as he continued to rock her shoulder. Y/N stirred more then opened her eyes to see who was waking her.

As she opened her eyes, vision still blurry from sleep, she saw two figures with tattered, blood-stained clothes and various wounds. Her eyes shot opened and she jumped from the bed, ungraciously falling out the opposite site from the brothers.

“Holy crap! Zombies?!” she proclaimed, somewhat out of breath and crouched in a defensive position. As her vision cleared, she realized it was the brothers. She stood straight and groaned, glaring at them fiercely. “What…the…hell?!” she demanded.

“Sorry…sorry” Dean began, holding his hands out in surrender. “We, uh…we just got back from a hunt and we’re pretty banged up and sort of need your help.” Dean smiled apologetically. Sam too, holding up the first-aid kit for her to see. She glanced between them and huffed. She walked to Sam and took the first-aid kit from his hands.

“To the kitchen!” She exclaimed, like a hero on a mission, sleep still evident in her voice. Sam and Dean glanced to one another and followed behind her. “So…” she began as she gathered bowls, cloths, hot water, and various items. “What happened this time?” The brothers sat at the kitchen table, wincing with the movements.

“A single werewolf turned out to be a pack,” Sam stated, trying to remove his jacket and failing. Y/N watched as the brothers were unable to properly bend any joint to remove clothing. She sighed deeply.

“Alright, who’s worse off here?” she stated, somewhat irritated. Dean nodded his head in Sam’s direction. Sam gave him a classic bitch face, to which Dean attempted to shrug in reply, wincing audibly at the attempt. She pursed her lips and nodded, standing before Sam. He looked up at her from his seat with a questioning gaze.

“Can’t patch you up if I can’t see what’s going on. Clothes gotta come off Sweetie.” She flashed a tired but friendly smile and began to remove Sam’s clothing, some having to be cut away. As Sam sat in only his boxers, she wet a cloth with the warm water and began to clean his wounds. Sam’s muscles went tight with both pain and the awkwardness of the situation. As she worked on stitching and dressing Sam’s wounds, Y/N’s mind wandered to a million different thoughts, her face revealing only concentration on the tasks at hand.

_Never thought I’d see the day I got Sam willingly out of his clothes. Damn, he’s fucking incredible! Oh, how I wish this was under different circumstances. Damn, that wound’s bad, how did he manage that one? How did I manage to get myself into the mother hen role? Oh, I can feel his breath…good Lord! Ok, focus Y/N, focus…Clean, disinfect, stitch…stitch…stitch…tie a knot…la la la…okay, not too shabby. Give him a smile, let him know everything’s ok. Oh Lord, those dimples…okay, on to the next…I feel like a Civil War era marm, caring for the wounded soldiers back from battle. You’re smirking, wipe it. Stern face, continue your work. Oh, damn, that is a really bad wound on his thigh…sigh, his thigh…so tight and muscular…ah, stop it, focus…_

She continued on this way in silence until Sam was patched up. “Alright Sam, pills, drink, whatever…then go to bed.” She gave him a tight smile, then turned her attention to Dean.

“Thanks, Y/N.” Sam gave her a light shoulder hug and a kiss to the forehead before trying to gather his clothes.

“Leave it, I’ll take care of it.” She said, glancing at the pile of ruined clothes. He nodded briefly before limping from the kitchen to his room. Dean managed to get off his shirts while she tended to Sam, but struggled with his shoes and jeans, his ribs and other injuries preventing him from bending and twisting as needed. She let out a very audible sigh as she kneeled before Dean. “Alone at last!” She joked, raising an eyebrow to him before undressing him and beginning to clean his wounds. Dean smirked and attempted to laugh, the pain in his ribs cutting him short.

“No flirting or making me laugh…I’m in no condition…” He began.

“Ah, just the perfect chance for me to rack up more points!” She joked. Y/N loved the flirting game. It was a game she always played and explained to the brothers when she met them. She saw it as an opportunity to get to know people, get comfortable with them and them with her, without having to delve into intimate personal details. The idea was to say something that caught the person off guard. If they blushed…that’s a point. Stuttered? Point. Speechless? Point. No comeback? Point. So on and so on. Dean immediately warmed to the game, Sam took more time to get comfortable with the idea. As they realized Y/N not only could flirt with the best of them, but was rarely, if ever, offended, the game became more fun. As it was, Dean usually won, Y/N pulled a close second, and Sam came in last, though that’s not to say he didn’t have his own good lines now and again.

“Really? You’re going to take advantage of me in my weakened condition to get points? Rude!” Dean tried to seem offended, but couldn’t hide his smile as he looked down at Y/N, her face again formed in concentration.

_Oh, I’d LOVE to take advantage of you right about now…I could get you blushing, speechless…serves you right for waking me up!_  Her face betrayed her as her eyes and brows twitched with her thoughts.

“I know you’re thinking something you’re not telling me.” Y/N stopped at Dean’s words, making brief eye contact before returning to her work. She let out another audible sigh. Dean leaned in close to her ear, letting out a soft breath against her neck. “You’re blushing.” He whispered in a low and sultry tone. She fought with every muscle not to physically react to his closeness. She wasn’t about to let him win.

“I’m always red, you know that. Pale skin and sunburns and all. The smallest amount of physical exertion causes me to go red.” She brushed off his comments as she continued her patching. Dean sat back and stared at her expressionless for several moments.

“So my near nakedness, my  _closeness_ , has no effect on you then?” He teased.

“Don’t I always give you points when they’re due, Dean?” She flashed him a quick bitch face.

“So what if I said seeing you asleep made me smile?” He pressed, trying to get a reaction.

“I’m sure I’m cute when I’m sleeping. And I‘m a friend you care about, so seeing me peaceful makes you happy.” She countered as if it were no big deal. Dean hummed in response.

“And if I said seeing you tending to Sam made me jealous?” His voice dropping low once more.

“You crave attention…it’s not surprising.” She shrugged, focusing intently on her work.

“And if I told you that your hands on my skin are giving me all kinds of thoughts?” He leaned in closer again, hovering over her head. She ducked slightly, feigning having to move closer to properly see as she stitched his wound.

“Because you’re horny and I’m a female within proximity.” She sighed out, finishing her work and making eye contact once more. She flashed him her friendly smile as she stood, his eyes never leaving hers.

“You have an answer to everything, don’t you? You’ve got me all figured out?” Sarcasm dripped heavily from his words. She shrugged and began gathering the ruined clothing from the floor, placing it in the trash. “How is it that my words and efforts can break down every woman, but I can’t seem to get through to you?” He asked, standing from his chair. Y/N sighed heavily, her shoulders dropping as she turned to face him.

“Because Dean. You don’t really want me. This is all a game. And to be honest, your efforts are a little lacking.” She shot him a glare before heading towards the hallway.

“You’re wrong, you know.” He said, watching as she stopped in her tracks, her back turned to him. He limped over to her and stood behind her. She turned slowly to face him.

“I’m never wrong, you should know that by now.” She smirked playfully.

“You are about this, Sweetheart.” She searched his face for any sign or tell. Confusion formed on her face as she found none. Was he trying to earn points? She had to save face.

“Yeah, alright. Blushing, at a loss for words, and no comeback. Three points for you Dean.” She offered, a small but cheerless smile gracing her lips. She quickly turned and fled for her room. Dean dropped his head in defeat and sighed.

“You can’t hide behind the points forever, Sweetheart,” he said to himself. He sat back at the table and stared at nothing, thinking to himself.

“I think her walls might be bigger and thicker than yours!” Sam said, now in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms. He walked to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, placing another in front of Dean. Sam sat at the table and looked Dean over for several moments. “Did you mean it?”

“What?” Dean asked, finally looking at his brother.

“Any of it?” Sam asked, truly curious. “Or were you just trying to earn more points?” He smirked.

“So that’s what I’ve become?” Dean asked his brother, anger and hurt written all over his face. “I’m just a habitual flirt? A womanizer? Nothing I say actually means anything, right? Because I don’t  _feel_? Because I don’t  _do_ feelings?” He seemed to grow louder and angrier with each question, searching Sam for a response. Sam sighed and shrugged.

“Well…yeah, Dean. When do you ever talk about feelings? When was the last time you had more than a fling or one-night-stand with a woman? When was the last time you were genuinely interested in a woman for more than sex?” Dean flinched at Sam’s words, but Sam didn’t relent. “Y/N doesn’t do flings or casual sex. She’s a committed and loyal person. And she’s honest. She’ll tell you the truth, but you have to ask the right questions. She’s a complete enigma. The kindest and sweetest and most caring…but also the meanest and cruelest…she’s so damn smart, but also naïve and gullible and way too damn trusting…she’s complicated and completely and utterly unique. Do you  _really_ think the ‘same old, same old’ will even scratch the surface of her and her walls?” Sam seemed amazed that Dean didn’t realize this. Dean saw the flash of emotion in Sam’s eyes as he spoke.

“You too, huh?” He chuckled humorlessly. Sam sighed deeply.

“She’s got a way of convincing you that what you think and feel isn’t real or right. Like you’re misjudging your own understanding of your own thoughts and feelings. And you can’t get a read on her because she can twist anything and hide what she really thinks and feels behind multiple layers of…I don’t even know. And as soon as you think you’ve peeled back the layers, there’s just more and more. Like she’s changing, but she’s still the same, but there’s more than you ever thought and it just keeps coming.” Sam took a second to catch his breath. “All I do know, for certain, is that she confuses the fuck out of me and she genuinely loves us. I don’t know if it’s romantic or platonic or just a general love for humanity, but it’s there and it’s real. And I feel like I need to earn it every day.”

Dean nodded in agreement, looking at the ground. They sat in silence for a long while before heading off to bed. Sam fell asleep quickly. Dean lay awake for hours thinking on Sam’s words and thinking about Y/N.  _What did he think? What did he feel? How could someone make him second guess his own mind and heart? How could he get through her walls? How could he know what was real and what wasn’t?_  Eventually, his weary mind drifted off to sleep, still thinking of ways to solve the puzzle that was Y/N.


End file.
